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A confession, an honest acceptance of guilt, an apology

Started by Fujikoma, September 29, 2018, 03:26:00 AM

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Hello, I'm, that guy you see in the picture, not really of course, but it would be cool if people thought that, whatever, anyway, let's address the subject of the post.

The last time I was posting here, I was younger, I'm now about 40, which isn't old, but sometimes I can be somewhat immature, when you pull up the carpet and inspect the floorboards, naturally it turns out to be a bit more of a problem than first appearances would suggest. I'm still immature, only a few things have changed, if you're reading this you possibly expect this thread to deliver, something. Hopefully it does, no gaurentees, however.

Since that time, I had periods where I would rarely see another human being, I also had downtime, and no TV, so I had to do something, and I only had one book, The Blue Cliff Record, which I was reading during the time period I posted here. I may've picked something up from it, I may've not, I ended up tossing it though because seriously, that's a pretty large, ancient troll. Still, I struggled to understand, I continued to work hard, because either you work hard, or you starve to death, this is kind of the way of things, no sense in debating the nuances.

I quit my old job, found a new one, kept it about three months, then got fired for being "slow", I was kinda ticked about that, but I looked it up and apparently Georgia is a "right to hire" state which means they can fire you because one time you reminded one person of one of the gremlins in that old film because your haircut was unsnazzy enough, report it to the boss, and the boss has the say, indisputable, don't really blame them though, I did know I had some brain defects but it was kind of alarming to hear someone be so blunt about it.

This does not come without consequences for me, finding a new job when your skills aren't all that great, and writing a resume when you can't even figure out how resumes even work, is difficult. I suppose people like to find some way to take pride in their mental "differences", and I applaud them for trying to find a sense of self-worth somewhere, for me, er, I was finding, a whole lot of nothing. I still tried to make it work, tried to make the puzzle pieces fit together in futility, alas, as is predictable, that's not how it works.

I ended up, without a place to live, food to eat, or a dime in my pocket, in the Atlanta area. Not so glorious a fate for our protagonist here. Unsure what to do, I ended up meandering down backroads with a bag of the only possessions I had, clothes. I was stopped sometimes by beggars, when I explained why I simply had no money to give them, they pointed out the route I needed to go, which I tried to retain, but I couldn't, so got lost again. I spent, a solid 12 hours lugging a sack of clothes around in the middle of the night, until I found myself in downtown Atlanta.

I went to Atlanta Union Mission, it was dawn, I was dead tired, and they told me to come back at four. I was like, wait, every part of me is dead sore, and you want me to wait until the afternoon? Well, ok, your place, your rules. So I went on, some crackheads tried to hustle me, found out I had nothing to hussle, decided we should chill, pretty cool dudes, all things considered, grifters, by their tales, they tried to get me to partake and I said, I don't judge you for liking it, but I dropped that shit ten years ago, not going back... so instead we exchanged stories, I mostly listened, the tales were fascinating, I didn't say much, but they seemed to like me and honestly care about me, and it felt good just to chill with some people who cared without question.

They directed me to possibly, the worst homeless shelter in the world, but honestly, despite all the, not-goodness, the facilities weren't that bad, the shelter at Peachtree and Pine, which officials had been trying to shut down for like a decade. I met a lot of people, one of the guys I'd originally met had also decided to shadow me like a ninja, then turn up and say, "Hey, the fuck you thinking walking around in the open out here, white boy? This is a rough neighborhood, there's people that will hurt you. C'mon, I'll lead you back."

Well, that lasted a few weeks, I had mysterious crack ninjas watching my back, and I made easy friends inside the shelter, despite not being as dark complected, good folks, I really, really hope all of them have had good experiences, but given the circumstances, and the nature of how the system works, I have to admit to myself the grim truth. I went to a Christian non-profit trying to find out what kind of benefits I might be eligable for, got assigned to one hot, smart caseworker, she was a straight-up knockout, so it was sometimes difficult to even stay awake in the presence of her voice... anyway, I'm, mentally ill, there's, nothing glorious about that, the silver lining is so thin it may as well be nonexistant.

I will continue after I catch my breath.


Anyway, my caseworker, she asks where I'm staying so I was like, shrugs "Peachtree and Pine." she's like, omg we've got to get you out of there before you die. Apparently there was a tuberculosis problem there along with the understandable "kill whitey" sentiment and the place was practically filled with people who just got out of prison, still, I liked those people, it had come to be like home to me in a few days, not actual home, fuck that place, but it felt like an idealized sort of home. You probably heard of Tyler Perry, well, apparently he spent some time living there, though I didn't know at the time.


Even after I left the pine resort, I'd meet fellow homeless persons who asked me about my past, when I mentioned the Pine, they'd be like, "Fuck, how'd you survive?" and I'd respond, "Because I'm cute. Killing a fine piece of ass is a waste, everyone knows that."


Long story short, I spent a year homeless, and met a lot of really fascinating people, saw a side of life I'd never seen before, and was filled, for once, with the unfamiliar feeling that, everything was going to be okay. Then I got a slot in a funded apartment that requires you have to both have been homeless, and mentally ill, a lot of people around here are really chill too, it's only a random asshole who tries to act up, most of us just want to be left alone.


I had a place to stay, with no income, this meant, stealing things like toilet paper, because foodstamps won't pay for that, and you kinda gotta keep your asshole clean. I did things I'm not very proud of, like digging through trashcans, but I was digging for scratch off lottery tickets, I've found more winners in a trashcan than I bought, and also, scrounging cig butts. What amazed me most, and what pisses me off most about Trump's border wall proposal, is that I actually now live, surrounded by Mexicans who don't speak a word of english.

I've observed how they behave, how they treat their elders, and it's enough to bring tears to your eyes to realize just how kind strangers can be to one another, and a number of them would see me digging in the can, follow me, approach, and just, push money in my hands despite my attempts to give it back. One who spoke english even saw me at a McDonald's, using their wifi and when I got in line, I tried to order one thing off the value menu, and he's like, "No... you're way too skinny, you need to eat. Order whatever you want, I'm paying." so I did and I was like, "Why did you do that?" he's like, "It's simple, someday, you might be able to help someone else, pay it forward, eh?"


So I spent a while, with, no cash at all, a food stamp card, I had food to eat, but I couldn't buy soap, or razors, or anything that wasn't food, without actual cash. I could buy cooking wine though, which I took to drinking at that point because I was all kinds of fucked in the head about life and its direction then. I was filing for disability, I mean, if people fire me for being slow-witted, then, well, what am I supposed to even do. It took, six, years, and I hear I got it easy. I had some representitives but they didn't make quite the impression I did when I walked in after I fired them to speak with a judge.


I was just, open and honest with the guy, and he's like, "First Step didn't even put this in their papers, they ignored all of this."


He decided to cancel the hearing, then he's like, "You will be provided with a form to seek legal council, I'm just going to tell you it won't affect your case whether you do or not, with me. The real purpose is to have this after we've sent you to some of our doctors, not like the quacks Social Security sent you to see. Hire a lawyer if it makes you feel better."


So, I signed, I was honest with the doctors, apparently, I have superhuman abilities according to the physical doctor, not sure how he figured out I could fly or shoot lazerbeams out my butthole, I usually reserve that for significant others... according to their psychiatrist, who was, VERY thorough, quiet, and dilligent, though... I never should have been able to do even the jobs I was good at.

So there, there's my fucking long-winded apology for having expressed some right-wing viewpoints some did not agree with. I'm fucking sorry, and sorry doesn't fix a fucking thing, so, let's get to fixing. I still love guns, I still love nicotine, and I still love a whole host of other things, but I learned a lot from what I experienced, I learned a lot from other people going through the same thing, I learned why certain thoughts are bad, from being the pigeon that is not to be fed. I apologize to anyone I've wronged and I hope it's accepted.


That happened years ago, yeah, and nobody cares unless they want to hate is the general rule of the internet, but open eyes, and actual sincerity, hard lesson to learn, if you got it early, that's fucking fantastic, I'm just, not so quick it would seem.


Oh blessed asshole,
How many curse your name? How many blame you for your faults?
How many do complain?
As to be expected, they lay awake all night, expecting as if gunshots, some nightmare-driven plight,
reality it gets layed bare, and their memory is shite.

My blessed saint, truest saint, like Socrates you bitch,
but somewhere at the heart of it, lies the truest itch,
to change the world one needs an axe and consequences dire,
to change oneself is different, a deepening quagmire.

But fret not ye fiends, there is a being who holds a simple truth,
though the words that spring from it may sound a bit uncouth.
Just touch the end, it's just a blade, a little blood won't kill ya,
But if you cannot take the sting... then fuck the fuck right off.

Doktor Howl

Molon Lube


Me, I've always been me. Maybe I take criticism and guilt a, little rougher than expected, but I'm getting better at it.

Doktor Howl

Quote from: Fujikoma on September 29, 2018, 07:27:49 AM
Me, I've always been me. Maybe I take criticism and guilt a, little rougher than expected, but I'm getting better at it.

It doesn't get easier with time.  :lulz:

As your Doktor, I suggest you SHAKE THAT.
Molon Lube


Well, welcome back or something. I don't remember you.
"Soon all of us will have special names" — Professor Brian O'Blivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." — Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)"
— Walt Whitman